Ginger Simpson's Blog, page 33

Naked and Afraid

www.laurirobinson.blogspot.com

When I first heard about the show a couple of years ago, my first impression was along the lines of you’ve got to be kidding. Now, I have to admit, I end my weekend by watching the latest episode on Sunday night. I am amazed by the courage of these people. They agree to strip themselves of everything except their knowledge in order to survive in a strange and often hostile environment, with a person they’ve never met.  
These people have to forge out food and shelter, and some come up with very creative ways to make clothing or cover themselves. They also have to learn how to get along, negotiate, learn new skills, and depend upon each other. At times personalities clash, ideas fail, and accidents happen. 
Within the short span of an hour, including commercials, I find myself liking people I didn’t think I would have during the opening scenes, saddened by some I’d thought would succeed and didn’t, and rooting for a successful extraction for those who have forged their way through twenty-one days. 
In many ways, this is the closest I’ll ever be to watching anything close to the nitty-gritty of the American pioneers who sold everything, packed up and headed for the Wild West. Though many traveled in groups and/or with wagon trains, and they weren’t naked, I can imagine many of the pioneers were afraid. They had brought along a few basic necessities, but ultimately, when they eventually arrived at their destination, which was often a chunk of virgin land, they had little but their knowledge and skill to survive the fast approaching winter. It couldn’t have been easy, and they certainly didn’t have a camera crew they could appeal to for medical help or a ride home when the going got too rough. The raw basics of human nature had to be the same. The will to survive. The determination. The joy of successes and the heart-wrenching disappointment of failure. 
There’s my confession, or maybe it’s my justification for watching a show I first scoffed at. Either way, I watch Naked and Afraid, and will continue to. 
My next release will be June 1st. The heroine in  Her Cheyenne Warrior  is close to being naked and most certainly afraid when Black Horse scoops her out of the middle of the river in Wyoming.
The Cheyenne's captive! 
Runaway heiress Lorna Bradford must reach California to claim her fortune, but when she's rescued from robbers by fierce warrior Black Horse, she's forced to remain under his protection. 
Immersed in a world so different from her own, wildcat Lorna learns how to be the kind of strong woman Black Horse needs. But, to stay by his side, she must first let go of everything she knows and decide to seize this chance for happiness with her Cheyenne warrior!

Robinson’s talent for period detail shines in her newest stand-alone novel, and the author’s dare to go retro with the classic “Englishwoman vs. Indian chief” plot might just revive an entire sub-genre. Mildly sexy and thoroughly engaging, this tale of broken hearts allowing love in once more is a guaranteed HEA. RT REVIEWS- See more at: http://www.rtbookreviews.com/book-review/her-cheyenne-warrior#sthash.uBAdv9Wf.dpuf

Independence Day

So, it’s almost the 4th of July and here in the United States, that’s a national holiday. On one of the news stations I watch, there is a hashtag campaign running called “Proud American” and this station interviews people about why they are proud to be an American. That’s got me thinking about what it is that makes me proud to be an American, and I came up with a few things.


We have the most generous, caring citizens in the world. Seriously, when there’s a natural disaster, who the heck does the world call for help? Sometimes, we aren’t so quick to see the natural disasters in our back yard, but we can see the ones elsewhere. Earthquake in Haiti? The Americans will have a televised fund-raiser for you. Tsunami? Yep…we’re there to help. 
World wars? Yeah, we saved the world. Twice. You’re welcome. And then we helped rebuild those hostile countries decimated by those wars. Aliens invading the planet? I could bet we’d be on the front lines. Rather like the scene in Independence Day (the original) when Jeff Goldbloom’s character figured out how to take down the mothership so the world could fight back and when the message was sent out the old fashioned way via Morse Code, the comment from the British forces hunkered down in some desert was “About bloody time!”
There’s a clichéd comment about the US being the last, best hope for freedom and democracy in the world, but in my heart, I know that’s true. America is still seen by many as a shining city on a hill. Oh, we may squabble, fuss, and fight among ourselves, but that’s what family does. Let an outside force attempt attack us and watch how fast we pull together and kick some serious butt. When we put the might and intellect of our citizenry behind an idea, there is nothing we can’t do. Harness the power of the atom, put a man on the moon, send a little rover to Mars, get a close up of Neptune…


The men who signed our Declaration of Independence somehow knew that we could never be the best we could be if shackled under the heavy yoke of tyranny. They weren’t necessarily brave men, but they were men who understood that the good of the many outweighed the needs of a few. Our country was born on July 4th, 1776. We became a nation in the crucible of the American Civil War. We tried to commit suicide as a nation in that war. And, like any suicide attempt, there are still scars. BUT…and this is a huge but…we survived it to become the nation we are now. It is our shared, collective history and we cannot hide it, nor should we try. That bloody war MADE us.

We are a nation of immigrants, whether your ancestors arrived here on the Mayflower or if you just got here. It is those immigrants which have made us so strong, given us so much diversity and the resilience to overcome any adversity. So, rather than letting petty differences, self-serving politicians (of EITHER political stripe), and fear divide us, let us come together again as a nation. We are bigger than our differences. We have always found ways to resolve those differences. And, that is just one more thing that makes me proud to be an American.

Welcome, James R. Callan, Today's Guest

An Interview with Brandi

Jim:  Today, I'm visiting with Brandi Brewer, a key player in A Silver Medallion. Hi Brandi, I understand you are Crystal's roommate.

Brandi:  Actually, it's house mate.  We share a two bedroom house not too far from the center of Dallas.

Jim:  How did you meet Crystal?

Brandi:  She was looking for someone to share  the house with her. A friend of a friend of a friend told me about it and I called her.  We met at a coffee shop and visited for awhile and then struck a deal. At first, I wasn't sure I wanted to do it. I mean, she was pretty business like, straight-laced, almost boring. But it was a nice  house, two good sized bedrooms. 'Course, it only had one bath. But a great location and not too pricey. So, you pays your money and takes your chances.  I said cool.

Jim:  And how long have you two shared the house?

Brandi: Gotta be three years now, closer to four.

Jim:  How's is working out?

Brandi:  What do you think, Jim?  It's been nearly four years and we're still friends.

Jim:  Well, I mean you got stabbed and nearly died because of Crystal.

Brandi:  Hold it. If you want to continue this interview, back off.  It was not because of Crystal. Some dumb dud comes in, gets the information he asks for, sort of, and then decides to break my foot, slash my arm and stab me in the chest. He's to blame, not Crystal. You got that? Otherwise, we're through.

Jim:  I've got it. You're dating a detective, right? How's that going?

Brandi:  Fantantalistic. Tom is just the greatest. I went with a lot of scum before I met Tom. I really believed all men were that way. Then along came Tom, a tough cop - actually a detective, a gentleman through and through. I love the  guy.

Jim:  But you're still rooming with Crystal.

Brandi:  See. I told you Tom was a gentleman. He's ready for us to move in together, has been for a year. But I've seen too many of my friends rush into things and then regret it.  I said I wanted to take it slow.  He's okay with that. Lot of guys wouldn't stand for that.

Jim: I heard you weren't always Brandi. You had your name legally changed.

Brandi:  Yeah. Never liked Bertha. Would you? Decided, why should I keep the name of one of Dad’s old girlfriends? I didn’t like it. And I’m sure Mom didn’t either. So, poof, it was gone.  Took off twenty pounds, changed the hair. I had mousey brown from my mother. No more.  I got washed-out blue eyes from Dad. Accuvue gave me these aqua beauties. Decided the nose was fine. Wore braces for two years.

Jim:  You just decided to . . .

Brandi: Look the way I wanted to. Oh, and I took a course in make-up. Best money I ever spent. Even the contacts didn’t do as much for my eyes as knowing how to put on eye shadow, and eyeliner, and eyebrow pencil. ‘Course now, I just have my brows and lashes dyed.

Jim:  You and Crystal seem ... different. How do you get along?

Brandi:  Maybe it's that opposites attract thing. She's got natural beauty; I had to recreate mine. She's got lots of book learning, but doesn't have street smarts, like I do. I think we're a good match. So does Crystal.

Jim:  From what I see, Crystal's lucky to have you around.

Brandi: Now you're getting it. Hey, gotta run. I'm on the late shift today.

Brandi and Crystal were a good fit in A Ton of Gold and now they are even better in A Silver Medallion.  Check it out at Amazon.com:    A Silver Medallion




Blurb: A Silver Medallion  -  A Crystal Moore Suspense

Young, bright, unadventurous Crystal Moore comes face-to-face with slavery in today’s Dallas, Texas. A woman is held, not by chains, but by threats to her two small children left behind in Mexico. Should she escape, or even tell anybody of her situation, her children will be killed.

Crystal would like to walk away and forget she ever heard this. But her conscience won’t let her. Her parents were killed when she was just seven. She knows the heartache these children suffer. And she can’t sleep without hearing the cries of the two young girls and their mother.

Crystal knows the woman will never try to escape as long as her children are held hostage. Crystal realizes the only way to free her is to go to Mexico and rescue the girls first, for only if they are safe will the mother ever be free.

Crystal goes to Mexico and secures the help of the mysterious Juan Grande. But now, two powerful and ruthless men, one in Mexico and one in Texas, want Crystal dead.

In the midst of all this, the man who nearly destroyed Crystal emotionally is coming back. This time, he can ruin her career.

She will need all the help she can get from a former bull rider, Crystal’s streetwise housemate Brandi, and Crystal's seventy-six year-old, feisty grandmother.

Brief Bio of James R. Callan

After a successful career in mathematics and computer science, receiving grants from the National Science Foundation and NASA, and being listed in Who’s Who in Computer Science and Two Thousand Notable Americans, James R. Callan turned to his first love—writing.  He has had four non-fiction books published.  He now concentrates on his favorite genre, mystery/suspense.  His eleventh book is scheduled to release in June, 2016.

Website:   www.jamesrcallan.com/ 
Blog:          www.jamesrcallan.com/blog/ 
Author's page on Amazon:   http://amzn.to/1eeykvG  



Social Media Links:

Fcebook:   https://www.facebook.com/james.callan...
Goodreads https://www.goodreads.com/author/dash...
Twitter https://twitter.com/jamesrcallan
Pinterest         https://www.pinterest.com/jamescallan/

 James, thank you for being our guest day at  "Dishin' it Out'.I know I'm not the only person looking forward to reading  A Sliver Medallion.  


Connie Vines 

Why We Like Cowboys. by Connie Vines

This is a re-post from March--because, you guessed it, I like cowboys :-)




Who hasn't thought about the cowboys of yesteryear driving cattle across the prairie, a lawman riding for justice, a modern day rodeo cowboy, or the rancher down the road?

What woman hasn't sighed?
There is something about a man in western boots, denim, and a Stetson cowboy hat that makes a woman's heart rate jump and her mouth go dry.
Is it their manners, chivalry, sense of justice, or the fact they take off their hats and say, "Thank you, Ma'am?"  All I know-- Cowboys have the "it" factor for me and many other women.
The swagger of a rodeo cowboy, the set jaw and stance of a lawman, the easy way the rancher leans over the corral fence. . .sigh.  There is something about cowboys




I write about cowboys in both the past and now.  I try to capture the raw maleness that seems to seep from their pours.  These are men who defend a woman honor or protect a child.  Men who will fight barehanded.    They respect women.  I believe it is because in days of the old West, women were few and far between.  Men were happy to have a female to cater to, and wanted them to hang around.



The saying goes:  A cowboy's hands are as strong as steel, as tough as leather, but soft enough to touch a humming bird's wing or the skin of a woman---and not disturbing the beauty of either.
Happy Thursday,
Connie Vines

Julie Lence entertains us with Cowboy Slang

courtesy of: pinterest.com
Every generation has its own slang and humor. The same can be said for an era. The 1800’s is no exception. The cowboys from the Wild West had some colorful and funny expressions. I shared some with you last year and have chosen more to share with you this year. Enjoy!    
All horns and rattles: a person displaying a fit of temper
Among the willows: a person dodging the law
Bangtail: a mustang or wild horse
Barkin’ at a knot: trying to accomplish the impossibleCase of slow: a loser in a gunfight
Chew gravel: to get thrown from a horse
Couldn’t drive nails in a snow bank: said of an ignorant person
courtesy of: www.directory-online.comDidn’t have a tail feather left: one cleaned out at the gambling tables, or one thoroughly broke
Dough belly or dough boxer: slang for the cook
Duffer: codger, or useless fellow
Educated thirst: a man who drinks champagne or fancy mixed drinks
Fence lifter: a very hard rain
Fish: a yellow oilskin slicker
Flag his kite: leave in a hurry
Full war paint: a cowboy’s best Sunday-go-to-meeting clothes
Grabbin’ the brandin’ iron by the hot end: taking a chance
Guns on the table: fair play
Gut-warmer: slang for whiskey
courtesy of: pinterest.comHair case: slang for a hat
Heart-and-hand woman: a wife obtained through a matrimonial agency
Hide-out: a shoulder holster (I found this one interesting because my first instinct was a place where outlaws lay low)
Idaho brain storm: a twister or a cylindrical sandstorm
Ivories: poker chips
Jaw cracker: a traveling dentist
Just a ball of air: a very thin cow or calf.
courtesy of: pinterest.com

In the Eye of the Beholder

How do you define beauty? I know how our society seems to define it and I never fit that “ideal”. Because of that ideal, I have never really seen myself in a positive light, unless I was evaluating a role I was fulfilling—mother, wife, grandmother, dog handler. We use body shaming too often with our girls and ourselves. I can partially understand why the Mayor of London (as in Great Britain) has banned some public images of the female body. After all, as he says, he has two teen-aged daughters and he’s worried about their self-image in regards to their own bodies. I also have my reservations about the Mayor’s edict, but that’s for another blog post. I’ve found a wonderful organization which celebrates girls, teens, and young women with disabilities. Founded by Abbie Curren, 2008’s Miss Iowa, and the first contestant to compete for the Miss USA crown with cerebral palsy, this organization is the “Miss You Can Do It” pageant (https://www.facebook.com/missyoucandoitpageant/). I like this organization for a lot of reasons. Beauty comes in all sizes and in all forms. Beauty isn’t just the “ideal” our society claims it is. Beauty is just as much in the eye of the beholder as it is to be found within. I struggle daily with body image—I’m not getting any younger and those grey hairs I keep finding aren’t helping. The fact I’ve carried two children within my body doesn’t help that body image. That is—they didn’t help until I looked in the mirror a few years ago and said, “ENOUGH!” How I view myself had a direct effect on my daughter. I hear her say the same things about her body that I’ve said, unwittingly, within her hearing about my own body. And, I’ve heard my ten year old grand-daughter and my six year  grand-daughter shame their own bodies. Enough is enough. I will no longer allow myself to be shamed because I’m not 95 pounds soaking wet. I will no longer allow myself to be shamed because I have stretch marks from carrying my two children, or that I have grey hairs in the brunette because even though Miss Clairol is wonderful and only she and I know how much grey I really have I earned those grey hairs, or be shamed because….You fill in the blank for whatever reason we as women allow ourselves to be shamed. I will see myself as my husband sees me—as a beautiful woman he is attracted to. I will see myself as my son sees me—as the beautiful woman who gave him life. I will see myself as my daughter and grand-daughters see me—as a woman who is beautiful, caring, strong, and intelligent.

Another Blog-jacking from Shanna Hatfield

I'm on vacation with limited Internet access, so today I've stolen this blog.  :) (with permission of course.)

by Shanna Hatfield

The latest installment in my Pendleton Petticoats series releases this week. In the story, Millie Matlock is leading the local Women's Christian Temperance Union to drive the saloons out of town. Gideon McBride is a saloon owner who also happens to be the one man who turns Millie's head.


 The story is set in 1908, when the citizens of Pendleton, Oregon (along with the rest of the county) voted to go "dry" and bring prohibition to the area.

As I started digging into the research, I couldn't help but question why a town that boasted more than thirty saloons and nearly 18 bordellos would suddenly decide to go dry.

In truth, I never found the exact reason why prohibition became an issue. Although Pendleton had a population of 4,406 and was the fourth-largest city in Oregon in 1900, it  catered to the surrounding communities as an "entertainment hub." Cowboys, wheat harvesters, sheepherders, railroad workers, miners, and crews of men who descended on the town to work could find quite an assortment of places to drink, play cards and visit soiled doves.

In late spring of 1908, articles began popping up in the newspaper about the possibility of prohibition. A special voter’s edition of the Pendleton newspaper was published May 22, 1908. It urged voters to consider the financial impact prohibition would have on the town. 


According to the article, the city would lose more than $23,000 in liquor licenses alone if prohibition came to town. With rent, salaries, and other expenses, it was estimated the abolition of liquor business would leave a deficit of approximately $270,000 (around $6.6 million in today's economy). Not only would prohibition create a significant loss of income, it would leave thirty businesses empty and a few hundred people seeking a new means of support.

When ballots were cast in the June 1 election, prohibition passed in Umatilla County, but also in three neighboring counties as well.

The saloon owners had until June 30 to close their businesses. According to newspaper articles, the saloons went out of business without much fanfare on June 30, 1908 (several closing at midnight) and only one man was arrested that night.

A group of saloon owners did their best to have the vote declared illegal, citing an improper navigation of voting protocols. Other than running up attorney's fees, nothing came of their efforts.

Although Pendleton went "dry," twelve saloons were allowed to retain their liquor licenses and remain in business. The how and why those twelve were given special treatment is lost to history.

In years between then and the time when prohibition officially ended across the nation in 1933, many underground drinking rooms and escape tunnels popped up throughout Pendleton.


~*~



He watched as Millie sipped her hot chocolate. As soon as she lowered the cup from her mouth, he took it from her, placing his lips in the exact spot hers had been. While he tasted the rapidly cooling drink, he stared at her over the rim of the cup. His green eyes locked on hers as he handed the cup back to her. “That’s not bad, but I like a pinch of cinnamon and a dollop of whipped cream in mine.”
In a huff, she scowled at him. “I don’t recall offering to share my chocolate with you.”
“Oh, what’s one little sip between friends, Miss Matlock?” Gideon laid on his charm, smiling in such a way it did great justice to the dimples in his cheeks. Ever so slightly, he bent closer to her and lowered his voice. “Any time you like, I’d be more than happy to make you libations far more tempting than you could imagine.”
The timbre in his voice as he said “libations” nearly made Millie drop the cup in her hand. Not completely certain they were talking about beverages, her heart skittered in her chest.
Unsettled, her gaze shot to his, yet he continued to smile in an amiable, almost boyish manner, appearing innocent of any indecent implications.

Millie - Pendleton Petticoats Book 7



~*~ Convinced everyone deserves a happy ending, USA Today best-selling author Shanna Hatfield is out to make it happen, one story at a time. Her sweet historical and contemporary romances combine humor and heart-pumping moments with relatable characters. When this hopeless romantic isn’t writing or indulging in rich, decadent chocolate, Shanna hangs out with her husband, lovingly known as Captain Cavedweller.Find Shanna’s books at: Amazon | Amazon UK | Barnes & Noble | Smashwords | AppleShanna loves to hear from readers. Follow her online at:  ShannaHatfield | Facebook | Newsletter | Pinterest | Goodreads | You Tube | Twitter

Blogging on my Birthday by Connie Vines

Yes. It truly is my birthday—which explains why my posting is a bit late.

Last year was spent in Palm Springs where the temps reached 116 degrees (I decided not to repeat that adventure this year!)  This year will be spent at home where I can enjoy the soft SoCal breeze and the cool, sunny day.

I am, however, keeping track of our friend, Ginger, as she vacations in South Dakota.
Since I too have enjoyed a vacation, or two, in the Dakotas I will preempt her with a few picture of my own as a teaser to what she will share.


Happy Thursday Everyone!

Connie
The amazing Badlands (remember Thunderheart?) The Black Hills Mt. Rushmore




This is where I went shopping for my birthday cake :-)
Where I went shopping for my Happy Birthday Cake!

Heather Greenis on Critters

I thought I was pretty strong in my beliefs regarding nature until I met an acquaintance. This isn't a person that calls occasionally for a friendly chit chat. Nope, this person lives close by. A couple houses away. I am sometimes honoured with face to face chats with her.We live in the country. We get critters and lots of them. Deer, wild turkeys, lots of birds, squirrels, chipmunks, you get the idea. Her love of critters can be a bit extreme. Now, don't get me wrong, raccoons have a beautiful face, but, they can be destructive. So can skunks. Given the fact my dog loves the great outdoors even though she sleeps beside our bed, I really don't want either racoons or skunks nosing around on my property.This acquaintance encourages both raccoons and skunks to set up house around her deck. I'm serious. Yes, their deck is attached to their house. When I complain about the broken bird feeders, she tells me to stop feeding my birds. Apparently her feeders don't attracts the critters. "If there isn't any bird feed, they won't go there." Ugh. I refuse to argue with that. I'm not going to stop feeding my birds. Not going to happen. She came over a few weeks ago, as spring was ever so slowly springing. In late April, I still expected cold nights and the potential for frost. She had put her hummingbird feeder out and wanted me to put mine out. Not trusting mother nature, it was too early. 
[image error]"But the humming bird needs food," she informed me. "I don't want him to go hungry. I've had him at my feeder.""How do you know that? Have you actually seen him?" I asked."No. But there is poop on my deck. It's so small, it must be his."I've never fought as hard to restrain from laughing in my life. OMG.  Send for Bird Poop Analysis. As I relayed the story to my husband, it dawned on me. I think our property value just decreased.

--
Heather GreenisThe Natasha SagaGreed…Pride...Sacrificemy website         my publisher linked in    FB author page    follow me on twitter@heathergreenis

You probably need a new religion

I posted this the other day on my own blog over at WordPress, but I think it needs repeating.

Fifty dead, another fifty-three (the latest figures at the time of writing) injured. Another mass shooting, this time in a social club where members of the LBGT community were known to congregate. And, later the same morning, another man was arrested all the way across the country in a car loaded with explosives and weapons. He was on his way to a LGBT parade. Thank God he was stopped before he could carry out his blood-chilling acts of murder and destruction.

And, speaking of God, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about our ideas of God, that Higher Authority, Al’lah—whatever you call it. I’m not arguing whether there is or isn’t a Higher Power. What I have been questioning are the dogma and doctrines of some of our current religions. I’m not delving into the past for any of this, either.

If your religion, and by extension your view of that god within your religion, doesn’t view tolerance and acceptance as a fundamental right of all humanity, you probably need a new religion.

If your religion, and by extension your view of that god within your religion, claims to be the only correct manner to achieve paradise, you probably need a new religion.

If your religion, and by extension your view of that god within your religion, argues only your god is the one true god and insists on killing those who disagree with your god, you probably need a new religion.

If your religion, and by extension your view of that god within your religion, makes the claim that the being who gave life to you by carrying you for nine months within her body and under her heart is never equal to a male, you probably need a new religion.

If your religion, and by extension your view of that god within your religion, argues that a woman does not have a right to determine what to do with her own body but then turns a blind eye to born children living in poverty, with abuse, and in squalor, you probably need a new religion.

If your religion, and by extension your view of that god within your religion, argues that humanity has dominion over the earth rather than the caretakers of this planet, you probably need a new religion.

If your religion, and by extension your view of that god within your religion, argues that those who slur the religion’s prophets are to be put to death, you probably need a new religion.

If your religion, and by extension your view of that god within your religion, makes your beliefs the sole arbitrators of morality and decency, you probably need a new religion.

If your religion, and by extension your view of that god within your religion, promises you seventy two virgins, or fields of flowers, or spending eternity in a candy shop if you martyr yourself by slaughtering innocents, you probably need a new religion.

Religion is a good thing. Belief in a god is also a good thing. Religion and the many god and goddesses which have come from religion give comfort in times of sorrow, hope for a life after this life, precepts on living a moral and decent and compassionate life—but when any religion is twisted, bastardized, and corrupted to fit a certain world view, religion becomes the most dangerous weapon known to humanity.

How about, instead, we actually live the command we have been given—in every major world religion—to love one another as we love ourselves. Maybe, we could surprise ourselves with how gentler, more accepting, and tolerant the world might be.